


Just Dust and Gold

by Oducchan



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oducchan/pseuds/Oducchan
Summary: It’s easy to see how beautiful Bruce is, when he sleeps





	Just Dust and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> So. I've been in a DC mode for the whole weekend and I needed to vent it somehow, so I took this shit I wrote (in italian) 3 years ago and then I translated it and now I'm posting it. Hope it's not too weird.  
> (I didn't have a good setting in mind but at the time I wrote it I had just saw Batman vs Superman, so I think it's appropriate to imagine them as Batfleck and Clarkvill)

Slowly, his fingers glide along the curve of a shoulder, drawing lines on the skin that stretches between the scapula and the rest of the back; he follows the rough outlines of the body beside him, until they disappear under the silky sheets, and there it stops, before going back in slow, soft circles. He tries to maintain a light pressure, the lightest he can possibly manage, cause he doesn’t want to wake him up. Not when bruce’s facial features are, for once, serene and relaxed, away from the mask that usually covers them in a frightening scowl. Not when his breathing is slow and regular, a sign that there are no nightmares to crowd his mind, but only a placid restful sleep.

It’s easy to see how beautiful Bruce is, when he sleeps; see the attractiveness that makes his female colleagues from the gossip column squeal and that effortlessly enchants the high society ladies. It’s easy to forget to be in the presence of the most formidable, fiercest, most determined man he’s ever met. It’s easy to forget about Batman, when Bruce sleeps and what transpires is only a man who grew up too quickly, desperate for a cure for his suffering.

It’s usually at that point that he begins to perceive the scars under his fingers. Small, thin reliefs that disrupt the smooth plane of his back; some are just a gashed outline, bumps with imperfect contours; others are wounds  still not completely healed, bright red or purple spots on the white of his skin.

Sometimes he finds surgical staples. The tightness he feels in his chest becomes even more harsh, on those nights.

He knows it’s stupid, but he can’t stop himself  from following the unravelling of those cobwebs of memories, each the reward of a battle even more brutal than the other, and then he starts asking himself, deep in the dark of the night, what it would be like, Bruce, if he had been by his side to stop every blade, every bullet. How would it be if that impenetrable shield that the Sun gives to his flesh could be shared, if it could, in some way, protect Bruce Wayne from the world and, above all, from himself.

Generally, like this time, at that point Bruce (Batman) stirs and turns over toward him, dropping a limb (an arm, a leg, his whole body) over him.

-Clark- he mumbles, with a voice so thick with sleep that Clark never succeeds  to understand if it’s sincere or if he's feigning in order not to let him know that no, he was not sleeping at all – Stop thinking about stupid things and go to sleep- 

Clark just answer in a slight chuckle.

-I will remind you of these words, the next time I see you with dark circles under your eyes- he sighs, close to his ear; then he bends over, leaving a tender kiss on his forehead –Sorry. Good night-

Bruce doesn't answer. He never answers. He just gets more comfortable, sometimes using him as a pillow, and lets his breath return slow and regular. Clark gives himself a few more moments to look at him, because these moments of tenderness that the other gives him are rare. Very rare. Terribly rare, with the lives they live. Too rare.

His eyes close just before the sun begins to rise, returning Gotham to light.


End file.
